Page 13 of Donner

Jax

"Tell me about your family," I said, wanting to continue the conversation so Beau knew I was serious about being his friend. He'd rocked my world in the pool, but friendship required conversations about more than whose dick needed to be sucked.

"I don't really have one," he said. "My dad didn't stick around after my mom learned she was pregnant. She didn't know he was a shifter, so when I had my first shift as a teenager, we were both really confused. She found me pecking at the wire top of my pet snake's cage."

"Aw, you had a snake!" I'd always wanted one when I was a kid, but my alpha dad was terrified of reptiles and my papa elf believed a happy family always obeyed their alpha, so I couldn't have one.

"I had to get rid of him after that. I didn't want to accidentally kill him, thinking he was prey."

Already, I was beginning to recognize the deep sadness that draped over Beau at the mention of his past. Still, I wanted to understand him, and I wanted to be there for him, to help him heal some of the sadness.

"What's it like, being an eagle?"

"Well, I can fly." He grinned at me. "From what you said about wind shear, so can you."

I couldn't keep the excitement from my voice. "I love flying. It's my favorite thing in the world."

"I'd say it doesn't make any sense, but none of the Santa story ever made much sense to me, and here you are." Beau's earlier anger had faded. Now, he was back to staring at me like I was something special, same as when he'd been stroking my cock. My cheeks felt hot from the attention.

"Come out to the balcony with me?" Yes, I was easy. I went from not wanting to shift in front of this guy to getting naked and doing a lot more than shifting in less than twenty-four hours. I couldn't help it. I felt comfortable with him, and this was something we could enjoy together.

I stood and draped my robe over the back of the couch, and Beau did the same. Instead of ogling him, I took his hand and led him back to the patio door and the balmy evening air. The stars were out above us, and the streets below us shimmered with residual heat.

"You want to go for a spin?" he asked. "Now?"

Instead of answering, I shifted into my reindeer form.

"Oh, wow." Beau held out his hand, and I went to him, butting my nose against his palm and sniffing him. He smelled like pine and predator, but I knew he couldn't hurt me. He was my mate. In this form, I couldn't deny it. My reindeer was ready to mark him and make him ours. Talk about easy.

I wanted to rub the top of my head against him, but I didn't want to tag him with my antlers. They were thicker this year than they'd ever been. Even my alpha dad would be proud when he watched us take off from the North Pole stables on Christmas Eve this year.

I settled for angling away from Beau, offering my flank. He took the invitation to pet me and scratch behind my ears. "So soft," he said. "You smell sweet, like hay and peppermint."

I snorted and bobbed my head, hoping he would take the hint and shift already. We couldn't talk in our shifted forms, but flight had its own language.

He shifted with ease into a much larger bird than I'd expected. He was half as tall, and equally broad, giving him a barrel-like majestic appearance. The gold of his crown was stunning, a few shades darker than his hair and darkening to russet with gold tips on the rest of his body. His belly was white, and white tufts of downy fluff stuck out between his talons.

I rubbed my nose along the feathers of his chest, luxuriating in their softness. He pecked at my antler with his beak and hopped back.

I tossed my head, knowing what he wanted. It wasn't every day someone got to see a reindeer fly. It was my belief in Santa and the spirit of Christmas that gave me flight. I closed my eyes and thanked Santa for this gift before I took a running start and launched myself into the air, soaring above the balcony's six-foot glass enclosure and galloping off into the night.

I heard a screech to my right, and I looked to find Beau keeping pace with me, his beautiful wings spread wide to catch the warm currents. I inhaled deeply, loving the soft feel of air in my lungs. I'd grown accustomed to the atmosphere trying to sting me like a hive of frozen wasps. While it was easier to keep our secret at the North Pole, thanks to its desolate location, and the shifting polar currents gave us challenging practices throughout the year, I always loved the feel of warm air when we flew far enough south on Christmas Eve.

I'd never be able to fly with a golden eagle on Christmas Eve, though. This was a new experience altogether. I wanted to watch Beau's every move as he led me further from the bright lights of the city, out into the marshes and swamps. He was beautiful as he sped ahead of me, swooped, climbed, and turned tricks midair. I had a few tricks of my own outside my sleigh harness, keeping my movements parallel to his.

He pierced the night with a shriek and dove into the long grass, sending a rabbit running before him. Instead of grabbing it with his sharp talons, he pumped his wings and returned to my altitude. It was hard to tell with his beak set the way it was, but I could sense his joy from chasing his prey. He angled a wing toward me, and we circled toward the hotel.

We climbed higher as we neared the city. I approached the hotel at a steep angle and landed beside Beau on the pool's tile walkway.

I shifted back into my human form and offered him my hand to sniff before stroking his beautiful golden head. "Thank you for flying with me, and for sharing your eagle with me."

Still in his eagle form, Beau hopped into the pool and tossed the water around like a birdbath, his beak flying over his feathers. I got the impression he was showing off for me.

He shifted in one smooth motion, barely making a splash as he swam to me.

"Thank you for the suggestion," he said. "It's been too long since I've flown to the marsh." He laughed. "How do reindeer fly, anyway?"

"We shouldn't exist according to nature. When the first Santa placed his workshop at the North Pole, he wanted privacy and the natural security of sheer remoteness. He didn't think through how he would deliver his toys once he built them." I grinned. "When he found a reindeer shifter pack near the North Pole, he made them the solution to his problem, but they weren't fast enough to deliver every present in a single night, and they couldn't cross the oceans. He gave them the gift of flight." The other reindeer would cheer us on and fly beside us as we left the North Pole for our annual gift delivery, even the ones who hadn't been picked to become the Santas' reindeer.

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